


Fallout: The Homefront

by Aussienick1999



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Vault 101
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7828291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aussienick1999/pseuds/Aussienick1999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 2277, two-hundred years after an atomic war set the world on fire, Vault 101 finally reopens, and it's dwellers emerge to confront the horrors of the Capital Wasteland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you're aware, I started this story in December of 2015, so expect the writing quality to be fairly substandard for the first few chapters or so.

_May 30th, 2071, Vault 101_

The alarm blared at 6:30 in the morning to wake me up. After over a decade of that same intrusive tone being the first sound of the day, I usually responded with a groan. But today was different. Today, classes were over, and it would stay that way until August. I leaped out of bed and put on a fresh Vault 101 jumpsuit before brushing my teeth in the men's bathroom. Only a handful of apartments in Vault 101 had actual bathrooms, so bathrooms were shared, but at least families got their own showers.

The cafeteria was only quarter-full even with the entire Vault population occupying it. It was no secret to anyone that Vault 101 had been designed to hold 1000 residents and that the current population had been reduced to little over 200. It seemed even smaller when you realized that a lot of people were related in some way. For instance, the two biggest families in the Vault; the Kendalls and the Macks, were related by blood. Two of Stanley Armstrong's three daughters, Mary Kendall and Gloria Mack, were the mothers of most of the children I knew. All in all, I could count about ten people who were related to Stanley, the head of maintenance. My head hurt whenever I thought about it, and I was always making mental notes to draw up a family tree or something.

The minors of the Vault were already wide awake to enjoy the 'summer break' as it was called. Of course, there was no such thing as summer or winter down here, it was just what they used to call the end of the school year before the Great War.

My best friend, Amata, was sitting with Christine Kendall. Since there were only three girls in the class, Christine was the only girl Amata was really friends with. I didn't mind Christine. She was nice enough (and more than pretty enough), but she never really took much interest in me. I approached the table, and Christine in her everlasting lack of interest, said to Amata, "See you later."

"Nice to see you too," I muttered sarcastically to Christine's back. Amata giggled.

"Don't take it personally," she said as I sat down. "She just doesn't think it could work between you two."

"What do you mean?" I asked, sitting down. "She's barely ever spoken to me."

"So you are interested in her?" said Amata, smirking.

"You're never gonna let that joke die, are you?" I said with a sigh. Amata had never let me hear the end of that one joke I made during my tenth birthday party.

_"Bet you can't guess what I got you for your birthday!"_

_"Uh... a date with Christine Kendall?"_

_"Gross! I didn't even think you liked girls!"_

She'd never forgotten that one.

"Do you have to do work today?" Amata asked.

"A few hours of maintenance with Stanley, and that's all for today. What did I do to piss your dad off this time?"

"Nothing, probably. He just..."

Amata trailed off, and look uncertain.

"What?" I asked, motioning for her to go on.

"Well," she said hesitantly. "I think it's your father. I've heard my dad telling him off for doing some king of experiment on water samples or something like that. He threatened to throw your dad out of the Vault."

"Surely not!" I said in disbelief. Not even the overbearing Overseer would throw a human being out of the Vault. Was that even possible? I'd only caught a glimpse of the big Vault door once. It was cog-shaped and, by the look of the machine hanging from the wall behind it and the treads next to the door, was meant to slide backward and to the side to allow for entry or exit. But could it even open? And if so, what would happen? They always told us that the surface was too irradiated for human life to exist, so would all the radiation just flown in and kill us all?

Amata snapped me out of my thoughts by saying, "Ryan, please don't do anything dangerous. I know how my father can be, but he can be even worse when he thinks he has too. And he's certainly not going to be frightened by a thirteen-year-old."

_July 31st, 2274, Vault 101_

I'd been losing more and more sleep by the night, and waking up in a state of panic. Even after minutes of calming down, I was always leaving the apartment with my hair uncombed and my jumpsuit half unzipped. No matter how much time I spent with Amata, or buried in a book, or secretly firing my BB gun in the makeshift target room my dad had made for me as a birthday gift, I couldn't calm myself. In three days, I'd be finding out the job I'd be doing down in the Vault for the rest of my life.

All anyone in the class had been talking about for days was the goddamned G.O.A.T. It was always G.O.A.T this or G.O.A.T that. All it did was remind me of how goddamned boring it was to live in a glorified hole in the ground. That was all a Vault was, really; a glorified hole buried under the surface to protect from the horrors that had occured on Ocbtober 23rd, 2077, when the two-hour long war left the planet burned by nuclear fire. Throw in a few bits of pre-war furniture and technology, and you had a decent living space. The only downside was that you, and your children, and their children, would never see the surface. You'd be born in the Vault, live in the Vault, and die in the Vault.

Everyone who wasn't part of Butch DeLoria's stupid Tunnel Snakes gang was anxious, including Amata. I'd seen her in the classes leading up to our exams. Her hands were always shaking and sweaty, which made her writing nearly unreadable. Mr Brotch had had the decency to not point it out in front of the class, which was a relief. Those goddamn Tunnel Snakes would tease her for anything they could. And they were always pressing me for dirt to use on her. She'd told me once that she was sensitive over her weight, to which I replied, "Don't be. The last thing you want is to be starving yourself to stay thin."

Every time they came near me, pestering me for something to hold over her head, I'd give them the finger and tell them to fuck off. Still, they always came back.

I started feeling sick to my stomach after every meal, and struggled to keep food down. My father gave me a few pills that were meant to help with digestion, but those came up with the revolting mix of food. Finally, nobody bothered to do anything but wait for it to be over.

_August 3rd, 2274, Vault 101_

I handed the finished G.O.A.T paper to Mr. Brotch, who looked it over carefully and said, "Apparently you're management material. You're going to be trained as a Shift Supervisor."

He rubbed his chin and continued, "Could I be talking to the next Overseer? Stranger things have happened. You can go now, Ryan."

 _Yeah, that's real likely,_ I thought sarcastically.

As I left the room, I heard Wally Mack bragging about how he knew how to get his ideal job. In response Mr. Brotch said, "Well I'll be damned, that little so and so. Wish I'd thought of that when I was sixteen."

I had to hide a laugh at that. Mr. Brotch was good at being funny without intending it.

"What did you get?" Amata asked in the cafeteria afterwards.

"Shift Supervisor," I said, without much enthusiasm. "Guess it could be worse."

"Hey, that's not so bad," Amata offered, taking a bite from her sandwich. "Besides, you can order people to call you 'boss'!"

Little did I know that I'd one day be in charge of more than just shifts.

"Hey, wake up!" someone said. "Ryan, you need to wake up!"

My eyes opened, then blinked at the light above me.

"Huh?" I said, sitting up on my bed. "Amata?"

"You got to get up," Amata said urgently, "Now."

"Hmm, that's weird," I joked. "I was just dreaming about you."

Amata sighed. "This isn't a joke. My dad's gone insane!"

I dropped the stupid smile off my face immediately, and stood up. "What's going on?"

"My dad... he's locked himself in his officer with a few security guards," Amata said quickly. "He was arguing with your father or something, and Jonas tried to intervene, and Officer Mack..."

She didn't need to finish. I understood.

"So what's happening now?" I asked, after a solemn silence. As if in response, the sounds of shouting and rioting drifted over, along with the occasional gunshot.

"Apparently one of the Officers leaked reports on my father's terminal from about 30 years ago," Amata explained. "I didn't read them, but Butch says they mention a security team leaving the Vault and visiting a nearby town."

I frowned. "That's... not possible," I said. "Unless..."

"Unless what we've been told isn't true," Amata finished, grimacing. "If those reports are true, then we've been lied to our entire lives."

I paused, trying to comprehend the thought. We'd always been told that the surface was too irradiated for life to exist, and would remain that way long after we died. Now, the idea that it had been a lie, that all the hopelessness of living in a Vault had been unnecessary. It was a strange thought.

The sounds of shouting brought me back to reality. I made out the voice of Butch DeLoria screaming, "Help! My mom's being attacked!"

I gave a half-hearted groan, but got up to see what was happening nonetheless. I wasn't going to do Butch any favors, but his mother Ellen had always been good to me.

"Please, you gotta help me!" Butch said the minute he saw me. "My mom's trapped in our apartment with a bunch of radroaches!"

Despite the situation, I couldn't keep the small smirk off my face. "Butch asking me for help? I'm shocked."

"Yeah whatever," Butch said desperately. "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Okay, fine Butch. Lead the way."

Butch led me over to his apartment, Amata trailing behind us. I heard a scream coming from the room. Looking in the window, I saw Ellen DeLoria struggling to fend off three of the ugly brown roaches. I didn't hesitate to run into the room.

"Hold still!" I said to her, whacking each radroach off of her with my arm. I stomped on them for good measure.

"Thank you," said Ellen weakly. "Come over and have a drink with me."

"Thanks, but I'm good," I replied. I'd tried alcohol once when I turned 18, and immediately disliked it, even more so when I saw Allen Mack after getting drunk.

"We did it!" Butch exclaimed like a child, "My mom's gonna be okay! You're the best friend I ever had, man!"

While I stood there in amazement, Butch went over to the dresser and pulled out something. When he handed it to me, I saw that it was a Tunnel Snakes jacket.

"I know it's not much," admitted Butch. "But I want you to have it. And Amata, I'm sorry for all the shit I've given you. I swear I'll drop the act."

"Uh...thanks Butch," Amata replied awkwardly while I laughed. Despite the situation, my spirits were lifted. Butch and I had been enemies since we were kids, and now he was calling me a friend. As a sign of thanks, I donned the fancy leather jacket.

"Man, I don't look to bad in this," I joked, looking at my reflection in the window.

"Yeah, we just need to fix up the hair!" Butch added, laughing. Amata rolled her eyes.

"You two done?"

"Yeah yeah," Butch said. "Alright, follow me to the diner, you guys. The others are all there."

The 'others' turned out to be Paul Hannon Jr, Christine Kendall, Officer Gomez and his son Freddie, Stanley, and Susie Mack. As well as Andy, the Vault's resident Mr Handy robot.

"Yo Butch!" said Paul immediately. "Why are these two losers with you?"

"Hey, easy brother," Butch replied, "These guys are cool with us."

"If you say so Butch."

"So what's happening?" I asked, to nobody in particular. "And where's my dad?"

The others looked at each other. Christine and Susie exchanged a sad glance. Something wasn't right...

"Guys," I said, fearing what they'd tell me. "Where is my father?"

"I'm sorry, Ryan," said Susie Mack, "The Overseer has him."

Without a word, I turned to leave with the intention of confronting the Overseer, but Butch blocked my way. "Whoa, slow down! Security's not gonna just let you waltz on up to the Overseer's office. They got the entire atrium locked down."

"I saw it too," piped up Susie Mack. "My idiot brothers are up there guarding the place with _guns._ Thank God I inherited my mother's decency."

"I tried to tell my father not to go up there," added Christine. "But he wouldn't listen! Kept going on about his 'duty' to the Overseer!"

I lowered myself into a booth, holding my head in my hands, feeling like my entire world was crumbling around me. Jonas was dead, my father was being held captive by the Overseer, and I'd been lied to my entire life.

I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder, and looked up to see Officer Gomez. "Hang in there kid," he told me. "We'll get through this."

"Is it true?" I asked him. "About the outside?"

Gomez gave a small sigh, and nodded.

"I've felt sick to my stomach for years," Stanley spoke up. "Having to lie to my own grandchildren. It's horrible, what the Overseer's done to us."

I slowed down my breathing and clutched the table for support. When I felt calm enough, I stood back up and said, "So what happens now?"

"My dad's been talking with Officer Kendall on the intercom," explained Freddie. "Kendall's been reasonable at least. He says we should just turn ourselves in before we make things worse."

"John means well," Gomez said. "But he doesn't think twice about the orders he's given. In fact, most of the Security Officers have that problem."

"Well, we obviously can't stay down here forever," I said.

"Yeah, but we do we do?" Paul countered. "Officer Kendall is the only one up there who won't shoot us on sight, and the Overseer has your dad and a few others held captive. He's already had Jonas killed-"

"Well, he did a lousy job," said a weak voice from behind me. I turned around to see Jonas, my father's assistant. His white lab coat was covered in blood, his glasses were cracked, and he was leaning on the wall to remain upright, a massive crimson cut on his forehead.

"Jesus Christ," I said as Stanley and Gomez held Jonas lie down on the diner seat. "I thought they'd beaten the life out of you."

"They almost did," rasped Jonas. "But Officer Mack was too busy being enraged to check if he'd finished the job. They took James up to the office."

I finally noticed the alarms blaring faintly, and the busted speaker built into the wall above the door.

"What we need," I finally said. "is for the Security Guards to back off so that we can have a face-to-face confrontation with the Overseer."

"Yeah, good luck with that," replied Butch. "The Overseer's ordered everyone back to their quarters and said that anyone who doesn't obey will be shot. The only option is to try and jump the guards in the atrium."

"That's suicide Butch," piped up Susie. "They've got N99's and we'e got what? Nuka Cola bottles?"

"Susie's right, Butch," I added. "Charging in there is only gonna get people killed. We need to be diplomatic. So who's least likely to get shot up there?"

Everyone's eyes immediately went to Amata, who sighed. "Of course."

"The Overseer is your father," Gomez pointed out. "Out of all of us, you're the only one who even has a chance of getting through to him. I'll go up with you; I might be able to keep the officers at bay."

"So this is the plan?" Christine asked, unimpressed. "You two?"

"Well..." Gomez hesitated. "I guess I could use another guy up there, but I'm the only one here with firearm training."

"That's not exactly true," I said slowly, standing up. "My dad gave me a BB gun when I was ten, and I've been using it for years. I know it's not the real thing, but it's the best I got."

Gomez hesitated, biting his lip. Then, finally, he said. "It'll do, I guess. Alright, take this, and don't use it unless you have too."

He handed me a second N99 and 30 10mm rounds.

"Gomez, what the hell is this?" said Officer Richards as we reached the aitrum. "Why the hell did you give that kid a gun?!"

"Easy, Richards," said Gomez, holding his hands out. "These two are with me. We're going to talk to the Overseer. Just don't shoot us, and nobody needs to get hurt."

Richards sighed and holstered his weapon. As we moved past him, he told us, "The Overseer's gone mad. He's in the jail with the doctor. Be careful up there."

I tried not to look afraid as we crossed over the staircase leading to the upper floor, but it was difficult when the officer's all had their guns trained on me. I was glad to get to the safety of the stairwell, which was covered.

"Don't make any sudden moves," Gomez told us as we made our way to the jail cell. "Follow my lead, and we'll get through this."

We passed through the maintenance room, and I saw the body of Floyd Lewis, one of our engineers, lying by a control console and covered in radroach bites.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered as we walked past.

The Overseer had locked himself in the security office with Officer Steve Mack and Security Chief Hannon, along with his hostages; my father, Mary Kendall (Christine's mother), Beatrice Armstrong (Stanley's daughter), and Mary Holden.

"Please, we didn't do anything!" Mary Kendall was saying. "Let us talk to them! They're just scared!"

"They are traitors to the Vault!" the Overseer snapped, brandishing a pistol. "Selfish and insubordinate!"

"Alphonse, think about this for a minute," my dad reasoned. "Just stop this before more people get hurt!"

"You will address me by my proper title, Dr Moore!" the Overseer said. "You never did have any respect for authority. I should never have let you and your brat son into this Vault!"

I frowned. What did he mean? We'd both been born in the Vault, right?

I wasn't able to dwell on the thought for long, because Gomez had opened the door and stepped inside the room. Mack raised his gun.

"Stand down Mack!" Gomez warned, bring his pistol up, as did I. "We don't want trouble!"

"And yet you bring this brat-" the Overseer pointed at me. "-up here? And Amata, what are you doing here? Go wait in my office where it's safe."

"No dad," Amata replied, shaking her head, "This has to stop."

"We want the fighting to end," I said firmly. "I know about the scouting reports on your terminal. You've been lying to us our entire lives!"

"Yes, I have!" the Overseer shot back. "For the safety of this Vault, I ensured that nobody would compromise our security by trying to leave!"

"'For the safety of the Vault'?" Amata said in astonishment. "Shooting people for being fed up with your rules? Is that for safety?!"

"Yes Amata, it is," the Over replied firmly. "When you're Overseer, you'll see that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, and I will not compromise the safety of the Vault because a few people fancy a wasteland vacation!"

"The Vault won't survive like this!" my dad spoke up while everyone turned to listen. "Our population has dropped in the last two hundred years, Alphonse. We've got maybe a generation left before people starting inbreeding, and that's going to be more trouble than what's outside the Vault!"

The Overseer kept his scowl on, but under it, I saw a glimmer of doubt enter his eye.

"We've spent our entire lives in here Dad," Amata said. "We're tired of it. There's an entire world out there that we won't see unless something changes. For better or for worse, please just let us make our own choices."

The Overseer stood rooted to the spot. The anxiety in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Nobody dared to breath. Finally, the Overseer lowered his gun.

"Well..." he muttered in a defeated way. "Perhaps I have been too overbearing-"

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Gomez went down clutching shoulder, his jumpsuit turning crimson. I pulled Amata down with me to dodge the hail of gunfire, and I saw Allen and Wally Mack firing 10mm rounds randomly.

"No! Hold your fire!" the Overseer shouted in vain. I kept my head down, gripping Amata's hand in my own. Finally, the gunfire stopped.

_Let it be over. Please let it be over._

"Ryan? Get up, we have to go."

Someone pulled me to my feet. I lifted my head up and saw that it was my father. People moved around me, their faces indistinguishable. I made out the Overseer and Gomez, both lying face down and groaning. Gomez had suffered a wound to his left shoulder, but was letting out a quiet groan. The Overseer was holding his side in pain. Through his hands I could see a gash going through his jumpsuit. A bullet has brushed him.

"Oh God..." Amata said shakily, running over to her injured father. "James... please help him!"

"It's not bad," the Overseer told his daughter. "Just hurts like hell."

Stanley and Officer Kendall came rushing into the room to help Gomez while my father helped the Overseer onto his feet.

The clinic was deserted when we arrived, carrying the injured Overseer and Gomez with us.

"Ryan," my father said as Stanley and Kendall lowered Gomez onto a bed. "You deal with the Overseer. I'll patch up Gomez."

My father had secretly, and without the Overseer's permission, taught me all he could about handling wounds. I helped him lower the Overseer into a chair, and checked the wound.

"Can you help him?" asked Amata in a terrified voice, kneeling beside her father.

"He'll be fine," I told her reassuringly. "The bullet only grazed him."

For a graze wound, there was a lot of blood. I cleaned and bandaged the wound, and gave him Med-X for the pain.

"You'll be alright," I reported finally, standing up. "The best thing you can do right now is rest. Can you stand?"

"Yeah, I think so..." the Overseer said weakly, pushing himself out of the chair. I frowned, wondering if the injury was more serious than I'd thought.

 _No point worrying about it now,_ a voice inside of me said.  _Just do what you can._

The Overseer made his way over to the chair while Amata and I stood by, ready to steady him should his legs fail him. He made his way to the clinic bed without trouble, and lay down, letting out a sigh of relief before drifting off to sleep.

"Thank you," Amata said, pulling me aside. "I know how terrible my dad has been to you over the years, and you helped him anyway. I can't thank you enough."

"It was the right thing to do," I told her. It was a principle I'd always lived with; all life is precious, even if it seems squandered.

We heard footsteps approaching, and turned to see Freddie Gomez running towards the clinic.

"My father?" he asked breathlessly.

"He's fine, Freddie," I assured him. "My dad's working on him now. Best to just give him some room."

"Actually, I'm already done," my father had materialized in the clinic doorway. "Best to just let him rest for now."

More and more people arrived to hear about the Overseer and Gomez. Christine Kendall, Butch, Susie Mack, Paul Hannon, Beatrice Armstrong, the entire Vault Security team (excluding Steve Mack), and Mr Brotch all showed up for news.

"They're both fine!" I said, getting exasperated after what must have been the sixth time. "So can anyone tell me what happened?"

"Allen and Steve Mack stormed the security office when they heard shouting," Officer Park told me. "Steve and Allen are holed up by the entrance, and God knows where Wally is."

I'd forgotten about Wally Mack, the third of the Tunnel Snakes. He'd always been the most unpleasant of the three, detested even by his own sister. His father Allen and brother Steve were just as bad. Steve had easily been the most sadistic of Vault 101's Security team. Allen Mack had had a drinking problem for as long as anyone could remember, as it was widely known that the violent shouting that occasionally rang through the Vault's upper level came from the Mack family apartments.

"So what happens now?" I asked Officer Kendall after the crown departed.

Kendall considered the question for a moment. "Well," he said finally. "We can probably assume that Alphonse Almodovar's time as Overseer is over. He knows he did wrong, and maybe he does care for this Vault in his own way, but we need a leader who can make rational decisions and listen to reason in tense situations. I know Alphonse always envisioned Amata stepping up to the role, but I'm not sure she's ready."

"Why not?"

"Well she's only nineteen, for one thing," Kendall pointed out. "Although age isn't the biggest concern. She's a little bit too emotional. We need someone with the mental capacity to keep a cool head in the most stressful situations."

He gave me a funny look, which told me everything I had to know.

"Me?" I said through fits of laughter. "Really? I'd be a  _shit_ Overseer!"

"So sure about that?" Kendall said with a small smile. "Your father was held hostage, and from what I've heard you kept a level head through it all. I think you'd make a great Overseer."

Two loud gunshots brought us back to reality. I heard screaming down the hall, and people running in all directions. At the far end, firing his N99 wildly, was Steve Mack.

"Mack!" Kendall shouted, his gun raised. "Put the gun down!"

Steve looked for a moment like he hadn't heard him, but after a moment, he dropped the gun to the floor, glowering at Kendall.

"Just hold still Mack," Kendall warned as a crowd formed around the scene. "Everyone step back please!"

Nobody bothered to obey or enforce that rule. Security guards arresting security guards wasn't something that happened frequently in the Vault. In fact, I couldn't remember ever hearing about something of the sort happening in the last 200 years.

Kendall stepped around Mack to cuff him, but Mack stuck his foot out to the side and tripped Kendall. In barely and second, Mack had picked up the gun and aimed it widely at any target, who turned out to be...Amata.

Without thought, I charged forward, knocking Mack off-balance right as he discharged the gun. Mack staggered against the wall and fell to the floor. What I did next seemed more like animal instinct that a rational decision. I quickly grabbed the discarded pistol, placed the barrel of the gun over Mack's forehead, and fired a single shot. A tidal wave of red covered me, and I heard several people scream. I stood there, blinking blood out of my eyes, and let the gun fall out of my limp hand.

"Ryan..." said someone.

I turned around, my eyes resting on Amata, who looked as shocked as I felt. Then, I saw Paul Hannon next to her, his eyes wide, clutching at the gunshot wound in his stomach, from which blood was dripping.

"Oh God," I managed to whisper. What had I done?

"Move! Out of the way!" shouted a voice I did not want to hear. Security Chief Paul Hannon, Paul Jr's father. He pushed through the crowd, stopping like a 'deer caught in headlights' (as the old saying goes) at the scene. Paul Hannon Jr had collapsed, and now lay still, a dark red stain spreading around him. Security Chief Hannom's face turn from one of shock to sorrow to rage, all in a matter of seconds. He rounded on me.

"You've murdered my son," he hissed, venom in every word. "You're dead, you little shit!"

I couldn't even react to Hannon raising his baton and bringing it down on me, hitting me across the face. I went down, my face stinging. I registered, in my dazed state, sounds of shouting and fighting. Then the world went back and I passed out.

I awoke on a clinic bed later on, staring up at the cold steel ceiling. The lights had been repaired, and everything was silent. My head throbbed, and I raised a hand groggily my forehead. I tried to sit up, but the entire room seemed to move around. I closed my eyes, that helped.

"Hello?" I called out.

"Ah," said a weak voice. "You're awake."

When I felt confident enough I opened my eyes and looked for the source of the voice.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I can't remember the details," the Overseer replied. "But James told me you blacked out while he was struggling with Hannon. Good God, that man looked insane."

He shuddered slightly. "Amata was here earlier."

"When?" I asked him.

"Yesterday."

I frowned. How long had I been out?

"How's she feeling?"

"Better," the Overseer told me, sitting up. "She was a bit shaken by what happened, but she's glad that nobody else died."

He rubbed his forehead a bit and continued, "I guess I owe you my thanks as well. Had Allen and Steve Mack not chosen to run gung-ho into the situation, we might have come to a peaceful solution. I've had a lot of time to think and...well... I've decided that it would be best if I stepped down as Overseer."

"I don't understand, sir," I said politely. I could already guess where he was going with this.

"There's no need to call me 'sir' anymore. Alphonse will do."

"I don't understand... Alphonse," I corrected myself. It was very odd to be addressing the former Overseer by his first name.

Don't you see, Ryan?" Alphonse said. "You showed me the biggest error I made as Overseer; I was so certain that isolation and social engineering was the only way to keep this Vault safe that I became disconnected from the people I thought I was saving. I prevented them from living like humans were meant to, and almost destroyed our community in the process. I never would have imagined it, but letting you into the Vault saved us."

I frowned, remembering what Alphonse had said to my father. He picked up on my silence.

"Ah, I see he didn't tell you," he said. "Well, I'm not the right person to tell you. That's a discussion for you and your father to have. Right now, we have other matters."

"Hannon," I said immediately, "I doubt he's security chief after what happened."

Alphonse nodded. "Since the Vault doesn't have an Overseer at the moment, that leaves two positions open. A three-person council has formed to deal with the leadership issue, but it's only a short-term solution. What this Vault needs is a new Overseer, and soon."

"Will the council elect the Overseer?"

"Dear God no," Alphonse said, scoffing. "The recent riot proved that the people shouldn't have their voices dismissed so easily. My successor will be elected by popular vote, like the old democratic nations did."

He paused, as if unsure whether or not to continue, then said. "There's a lot of people considering you for the position."

This was getting familiar.

"Funny thing is," I told him. "Officer Kendall told me I'd make a good Overseer right before Mack opened fire."

"He's not wrong," noted Alphonse. "You acted quickly to a situation that would leave most people rooted to the spot. What you did took guts, which is one thing any leader should have."

I wasn't sure how to respond to any of it. Finally, I said, "You've detested me for years, and now you're reccomending me as Overseer instead of your daughter?"

"Like I said," Alphonse replied, lying back down on his bed. "I've been doing a lot of thinking. I've become to disconnected with my daughter. Perhaps it would be better if neither of us held the position, so that we might be able to communicate as human beings."

The door opened with a hiss, and my father walked in.

"Ah, you're awake," he said with a smile. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've been hit with a hammer," I replied. "But I'm okay."

"I figured you would," James said. "Alphonse, have you told him?"

"Yeah," the Overseer replied. "He knows."

"Know what?" I asked, ignoring the fact that James and the former Overseer were on a first name basis now.

"The election," my father replied. "I'm assuming you know that more than a few people want you to take the position of Overseer?"

"So I've been told," I replied. "How long was I out?"

"3 days," my father replied. "The election's in a couple of days. You should be walking by then."

Actually, I was walking by that afternoon. I didn't go far; only around the clinic for a few minutes. My head still throbbed a little, but that was the least of my worries. I spent my time considering what Alphonse and my father had said. I didn't quite know what to think about the idea of becoming Overseer. It was an interesting thought, but I'd never considered it a possibility. Now that that was changing, I had to actually think about if I wanted it. There was a reason you didn't just get given the position of Overseer, after all. It wouldn't be an easy job, and I had no idea if I could actually live up to the position. I understood that people had confidence in me because of what happened during the roach infestation, but would I be able to make a decision, knowing that my actions could doom everyone in the Vault? I shuddered at the thought.

Amata came to visit the day after I woke up. She looked tired, and a bit sickly, but smiled when she saw me awake.

"It's good to see you," she said, the exhaustion obvious in her voice. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," I admitted. "Walking's not a problem now, and my dad says the headache should be gone by tomorrow."

"That's good to hear. Listen, can we talk in private?"

"Sure," I said, a little confused. I pulled myself onto my feet, and followed her out. Amata stayed close, maybe worried that I'd fall over, but walking was fine now. As we left, I could have sworn I'd seen her father give her a warning look.

"So what's up?" I asked, leaning on the wall to steady myself.

"You've heard that I've been acting as Overseer until a permanent leader is chosen?" she asked me.

I nodded. "How are you holding up?"

She sighed, and said, "It's exhausting, but someone had to do it. Anyway, I was going through the Overseer's terminal up in the office, and I found those supposed scouting reports."

"So it's true then?" I said. "The world really is survivable?"

Yes," admitted Amata. "I ran my own tests to be sure. The air outside is breathable, and there are only small pockets of radiation in the vicinity. My dad... he..."

She looked betrayed. "He lied to us."

I was about to agree with her, but instead I said, "Could your father have simply been wrong?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "He's smarter than that. He knew it was safe to go out there and he lied. What was he thinking?!"

I glanced over at the clinic, fearful that her father had heard. Evidently not.

Amata, I..."

"I just don't get it!" she said, looking tearful. "How could he lie to us, and me, like this?"

I put a hand on her shoulder. Her breathing was heavy, her chest rising and falling. I was stunned; I'd never seen her like this.

"Listen," I said. "When I woke up yesterday, your dad mentioned that he felt his role as Overseer was distancing you two from each other. Now on offense, I'm not the biggest fan of your father, but I think he really does care about you, and this Vault."

I pulled her closer into a hug. "I don't know what's going to happen, Amata. But I promise you that, no matter what, we'll stick together until the end."

I'd been on good terms with (almost) everyone in the Vault. Aside from Butch and his 'gang', I didn't have a problem with anyone else. But as the election approached, I found most people giving me small approving nods or wishing me luck. I'd finally decided that, for the sake of Amata and her father, to run for Overseer. If people wanted me to govern them, then how could I throw that back at them? These people were all I had and, with the prospect of a survivable wasteland outside, we'd all have to pull together for the Vault.

The only person who had gotten worse was Allen Mack. We'd both ignored each other mostly, and for good reason. Mack was short-tempered, and prone to act without thinking. The thought of him as Overseer frightened me. Not to mention, he was close with Paul Hannon, which didn't make the situation better.

On the day of the election, everyone of age was assembled in the cafeteria. I counted them. Apart from the Vault Security, there were only around 70-80 adults.

I took my seat at a table near the door, far away from Allen Mack and his supporters. There was chatter all around. Behind me, Amata and her father filed in and sat a good distance away, near the front of the room. We'd agreed that it would be best that we sit separately to avoid suspcion of bias. However, Amata did give me a small nod.

The two people who did sit at my table were my father and, of all people...

"Butch?" I said, astonished.

"Hey, teacher's pet," Butch greeted, sitting across from me. "Ready to become Overseer?"

"We don't know that yet, Butch, " James reminded him. "The votes haven't been announced yet."

"Yeah, but they have been cast," replied Butch. "And I know your son is way more popular than Allen Mack."

"Is anyone else even running?" I asked.

"Yeah, a few," Butch said with a shrug. "But they're little guys who think they can just gung-ho things. They've got no chance."

I frowned. Sure, I was excited to do something good for the Vault, but I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for those 'little guys' who thought that today would be their day. Over Butch's shoulder, Alphonse stood up.

"Can I have everyone's attention please!" he called out to silence the chatter, "Right, thank you. Now as a result of the recent infestation, I've been unable to return to my duties and will not be able to for some time. Furthermore, I've decided that being Overseer has made me disconnected from my own daughter, and the rest of you. It's for this reason that I've decided to hold this election, so that you may elect one of your own to govern this Vault. All votes have been cast and counted, and I would like the two candidates with the most votes each to stand.

"Ryan Moore and Allen Mack," he said. "Please stand."

I rose from my seat, as did Mack. Heads turned to look at the three of us.

"As Overseer of Vault 101," Alphonse continued. "It will be your duty to govern in the best interest of the Vault's inhabitants, and provide guidance when needed. You will be responsible for the lives of everyone within these walls. I warn you now, this is easier said than done. So it is for this reason that this is your last chance to back out."

I gave Mack a sideways glance. He stood still, as did I. He didn't so much as look at me. I turned my attention back to Alphonse.

"Very well, then," he said, drawing a note from his jumpsuit pocket. Clearing his throat, he read out the name of Vault 101's new Overseer.

"Ryan Moore."

The Vault dwellers rose in an indistinct sound of cheers and applause. I couldn't help but smile. These people had chosen me as their leader, entrusted me with their safety, and the safety of their children. I would not let them down.

"Congratulations, young man," Alphonse said, giving a small smile. This time, it was genuine. "I know you'll do this Vault well. Follow me, there are things we have to discuss."

I thanked everyone as I left, shook hands with everyone who offered theirs. I actually felt quite honored, in the midst of my dazed state. I followed Alphonse, Amata, and my father up the stairs to the balcony of the atrium.

"Over here to my- well, I guess it's your office now," Amata remarked.

The four of us filed in, and Alphonse gestured for me to sit in the chair behind the Overseer's desk. I sat, or rather, fell down into the seat.

"I knew you had it in you, son," my father told me, beaming. "I'm so proud of you."

"Hardly a surprising result," Alphonse told him. "He's probably one of the most well-liked people in the Vault."

He turned to me. "I'd say this calls for a celebration, but it will have to wait a day. Amata's told me of your conversation the other day. You know by now that the radiation levels outside the Vault have declined significantly, I take it?"

"Yes," I replied. "I've been considering what the best option is."

"And," Alphonse pushed. "What do you intend to do?"

"I see no other option but to open the Vault," I informed him, stunned at my own business-like tone. "This Vault had far more people in it 200 years ago than it did now. How long before we have to start pushing people into reproduction? And even then, there will be problems."

Alphonse sighed. "I suppose your right," he admitted. "As much as I dislike the prospect. My predecessor did make a handful of successful excursions into the Capital Wasteland- the Washington D.C area-in the 2240's, but they didn't go very far. All of our pre-war maps are useless, since most of the roads and towns existing before the war have all turned into rubble with time."

Amata stepped forward and said, "The scouting reports say that the closest settlement is a walled town called Megaton, south-east of here. The ruins of Springvale aren't far either."

"What about mutations?" I asked. "There are bound to be a few mutated species out there."

"The reports did mention giant ants of some kind," Amata recalled. "But it's been 30 years since those reports were made. Who knows what will be out there now?"

"We'll sort all that out in the coming days," I said. "Right now, I'm worried about the possibility of a radroach attack."

"I put Stanley to work fixing the vents, since that seems to be how they keep getting in," Amata told me. "He's almost got them fixed."

"Good," I said, nodding, "Anything else?"

"There is one other matter," Alphonse spoke up. "That of Security Chief Hannon."

I sighed. "Of course. How is he?"

"Enraged, which isn't surprising," said James, crossing his arms. "It's understandable. He didn't see what you see, after all. He saw you make a move on Steve Mack, which sadly resulted in the boy's death. That would tip most fathers over the edge."

"It's scary, the things he's saying," said Amata, shuddering. "Ryan, the things he said about you... and your mother... You wouldn't stand for it if you heard it."

I remember going rigid in my chair at the mention of the mother I'd never known, felt my blood boil at the thought of the hateful things Hannon must have been saying about her. But I put it aside. I couldn't lose my temper.

"I should talk to him," I said finally. "Apologize to him personally. I did kill his son- to an extent."

"I'd advise against that," James said. "He's bordering on insanity, judging from what I've seen."

"For once," Alphonse added hesitantly, "I agree with your father. Not to mention, he's capable of killing you with his fists."

"I won't be in the cell with him," I assured him. "And I owe it to him to at least explain why I did what I did. If what my father says is true, then I can't see him getting better."

"Well, it is your choice," Alphonse admitted. "Do what you think is best. Now, I expect they'll be throwing a party in the diner right about now. Care to join?"

"Sure, I'll be right down."

Alphonse went to leave with James and Amata, then stopped and turned back to me, taking something out of his pocket.

"Oh, I figured you should have these," he said, holding a yellowing piece of paper. "Vault-Tec's original instructions. Whether you follow them or not is your choice."

I took the 200-year-old paper from him and quickly read the paper over.

"Hmph," I muttered, unimpressed. "Good thing I'm not following these. We wouldn't last in isolation."


	2. Chapter 2

My dreams were haunted by Paul Hannon Jr. His jumpsuit was stained crimson from a bullet wound in his stomach, and dark red blood coated the cold steel floor beneath us. It crawled up the walls, engulfing me.

"You killed me," he would say, his eyes staring blankly at me. "You killed me."

"No!" I would deny desperately. "There was nothing I could do."

But he wouldn't stop. Those same three words would ring through my head, turning into a chant of, "You killed me. You killed me. You killed me."

Eventually, I would stop trying to defend myself and just fall to my knees, waiting for it to be over.

* * *

 

In between the dreams, I would plan out the first excursion into the Wasteland. I'd already decided that I would be going out there; I was sending these men out into the unknown. I owed it to them to face what I was making them face.

Gomez had agreed with enthusiasm, saying that he was itching to get out of the Vault. Next was Kendall, who also agreed to go. Three men would probably be enough, but I didn't want to gamble on our first trip outside. I looked over the list of officers; I'd need someone with a bit more muscle. Now don't get me wrong, Gomez and Kendall were big guys, but they didn't look it with all that security armor on. I needed someone who would send a clear message to anyone out there who would want to try something.

It was at that thought that I actually thought about what I was getting into. It had been hectic, becoming Overseer with barely a warning and immediately planning an excursion to the outside, so I hadn't really had time to just think about things. For all I knew, someone might gun us down the minute we even stepped out the door. Maybe we'd be robbed of all our possessions and left to die in the Wasteland. Or maybe someone would try and force their way into the Vault. The amount of unknown factors just piled up.

 _No,_ I thought.  _Don't overthink it._

Sighing, I decided the fourth man could wait until tomorrow.

* * *

 

Despite me insisting that they didn't have to, Amata and her father moved their belongings out of the apartment next to 'my' office and into a smaller apartment near the diner. James moved his stuff in, and I decided to stop putting off going to talk to Hannon.

"Good morning Overseer," said Gomez when I arrived at the small jail in the Vault. "Here to talk to Hannon?"

"That's right," I replied.

"Probably the best time to talk to him," Gomez noted. "This is as calm as he's been all week."

I looked into the jail cell. Hannon was sitting on his bed, his expression unreadable. Even without his heavy security vest, he looked thinner than usual. Too thin, in fact.

When he looked my way, his eyes narrowed like slits. "What do you want?"

"To talk," I said simply. "You've been refusing your meals, haven't you?"

"I'll eat when my hands have choked the life out of you," spat Hannon. I was taken aback.

"That's not going to happen, Paul," I said, despite myself.

"Then why are you here?!" he replied, shouting now.

"To explain myself," I said, taking a seat at the desk. "I can't get that day out of my mind, and I owe it to you to at least explain why I did what I did."

"Good," Hannon hissed, "I hope the day never leaves you."

"That's an understandable thing to feel," I told him. "Steve Mack was out of control. He raised his gun with the intention of killing another resident. I had to act."

"Only because said resident happened to be your girlfriend!" shouted Hannon, jumping to his feet and punching the window. "Tell me this, boy; would you have acted if it had been my son Mack was aiming at? Or if it was that dumb girl you're friends with that would be killed?"

I opened my mouth to respond, then hesitated. Would I have still stepped forward if Paul Hannon Jr was the one in danger? I probably would have, since he was never that bad to me when we were kids. But if I'd known that it would involve killing Amata, would I have been able to do what I did? I doubted it.

"What I did was basic instinct," I finally replied, keeping myself calm. "Sometimes we don't make choices about who lives and dies. We just do what we do."

"Keep telling yourself that," snarled Hannon, pressing his face against the glass. "As far as I'm concerned, you're a murderer who should never have been allowed into this Vault!"

"What do you mean?" I asked him, standing up, "I was born in this Vault!"

Hannon gave a sickening smile, flashing his yellowing teeth. "Daddy didn't tell you, did he? You're both from out there. You're tainted!"

"And you're lying," I shot back, "I'm trusting you enough to let you out of this cell. If you lay a hand on anyone in this Vault, you'll be in here a lot longer."

* * *

 

Dad was asleep when I returned. I didn't bother waking him; there would be plenty of time to talk about what Hannon had said when I got back tomorrow. I'd settled on Officer Taylor as the fourth man. He was more experienced, and a bit more level-headed. I made a list of all the equipment we'd be taking tomorrow, and went to sleep. We'd be up early tomorrow.

According to the clock, I'd woken up at six in the morning. Since you couldn't tell for sure underground, you'd just have accept that as the truth. I went down to the storage lockers to gather up the equipment. Taylor, Kendall and Gomez were already gearing up.

"Ready, boys?" I asked them.

"Aye, sir," said Gomez with a salute.

"Everyone's going out with a baton, a pistol, 50 rounds, two bottles of water a stimpak," I told them. The stimpaks were probably overkill, but I didn't want a man crippled fresh out of the Vault.

"Got it boss," Kendall replied.

"So what exactly is the plan?" asked Taylor. "I'd prefer to know what I'm doing, after all."

"The old scouting reports say that Megaton's the nearest settlement," I informed the group. "Officer Taylor, I believe your wife stayed there for quite a while."

"Yes, while sleeping not far a live atomic bomb."

"Don't worry, we're not going anywhere near that bomb if we can avoid it," I assured Taylor while pulling on a security vest. "We're just seeing how the locals will react to us, and take note of any dangers out there. We won't be gone long."

* * *

 

Amata, my father, and Alphonse were the only ones to see us off at the front door.

"Stimpaks?" the former Overseer said. "A little over the top, don't you think?"

"It's a precaution," I told him. "I don't want anyone going out there unprepared."

Alphonse shrugged in response. Anyone else might consider this rude, but anyone born in Vault 101 was used to far worse from Alphonse Almodovar.

"Just be safe out there," said Amata. "You don't know what's out there. I don't want any of you to get hurt out there."

"Don't worry, Amata," James said, "They'll all come back. Son, listen..."

He pulled me aside for a moment. "Listen, if you find a man called Colin Moriarty, do NOT do business with him. He's not a man that forgets a debt."

"Colin Mor-" I stammered. "Dad, what aren't you telling me?"

"It's nothing," James said quickly. "Just stay safe out there."

I was about to say more, but Gomez called me over.

"Come on! Let's go!"

 _This conversation isn't over,_ I mouthed to my father, before half-jogging back to the door.

"Ready?" Gomez asked, his finger on the Vault door control. Everybody nodded, and Gomez opened the door.

The alarm blared, and everyone covered their ears. The yellow light flashed above the Vault door, while a device descended from the roof and inserted itself into the back of the cog-shaped door. The device pulled the door backwards, and moved the door to the side.

Outside, I caught my first glimpse of natural light. At the end of the long, darkened cave, what must have been sunlight was streaming in through a cracked wooden door.

"This it guys," I said, taking a breath. "Be on your guard, and we'll be alright."

The four of us stepped out into the cave, onto a metal platform outside the door. It was here that I saw what might have been the most stomach-churning thing I'd ever seen. Alphonse apparently hadn't been the first Overseer to cut the Vault off from the outside world. Next to ancient signs that read 'We're dying, assholes!' were skeletons, or at least what was left of them. Darkened with age and missing limbs, their skulls sat empty and decayed. When had these people come here? When the Vault first closed, and the few people who escaped the atomic fire had come to plead for their lives? Judging by their conditions, it seemed the most likely.

"Let's go guys," I said, trying to sound unaffected, and probably failing. The walk to the end of the cave seemed to take a lifetime, and when we finally reached the door, it was a struggle to give Amata and the others one final wave, before the door of Vault 101 slid closed. I turned away from home, and pushed open the door to the unknown.

* * *

 

The full blast of the sunlight hit me as I led my team out, and I had to shut my eyes against the blinding white light. I staggered slightly, and felt something strange moving under my feet. It crunched with every step.

 _Of course,_  I thought, remembering my lessons. It was dirt. I'd only ever seen the samples brought in by radroaches. I slowly opened my eyes and took in the world. The sights, the smells, the light breeze against my skin. It was overwhelming. I allowed the officers to take it all in as well. I felt like a fish out of water, as the saying goes. Not that I'd even seen a real fish before.

Megaton was easily visible from the overlook by the Vault. I'd talked to Taylor's wife, who'd said that the town was surrounded by walls made from old plane parts. There was no way those walls in the distance could be anything else. I scanned the short distance between us and the town, but I'd have to get closer to see anything more than dirt and rocks.

At the base of the overlook were the remains of an old pre-war road. Where the concrete had disappeared, there was now a puddle of dirty green, heavily irradiated water. The Geiger counter on my Pip-boy began ticking. We steered well clear of the puddle.

I checked my Pip-boy and noticed that a new radio station had been picked up. In fact,  _two_ radio stations had been picked up. Under the out-of-reach Vault 101 PA system were Enclave Radio and Galaxy New Radio. Curious, I tuned into Galaxy News.

" _And now for a public service announcement,"_ said the voice on the radio. " _Listen up children, because this stuff's important. Remember, children, that when the Raiders come, there ain't no shame in locking your doors, barricading your windows and cowering under the nearest bed. When these psychos come to play, they have one thing on their minds; making your life as fucking miserable as humanly possible. Raiders can't be bargained with, or reasoned with, and there ain't no use in surrendered, 'cause they'll just shoot you anyway."_

The officers gather around me to listen in.

_"So run, hide, or fight if you've got the balls and the guns, but for God's sake don't go waving the white flag. They'll just strangle you with it. And now, some music!"_

'I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire' began playing on the radio. The news should have come as a shock, but I wasn't surprised. What was I expecting? A utopian society with no crime? That would just be lunacy. My hand went to my 10mm, and it gave me a sense of security.

We made our way to the front gates of Megaton, which opened upon our approach. A protectron stood by the gate.

"Welcome-to-Megaton," it said. "The-bomb-is-perfectly-safe. We-promise."

Megaton's walls surround a giant crater, at the center of which sat an unexploded atomic bomb sitting in a puddle of irradiated water. Crudely-built metal shacks covered the crater walls, some stacked on top of one another with support columns.

A figure approached us from what passed for a main road. He wore one of those old western duster coats and hats that people wore in those old movies, and he carried an assault rife.

"Well I'll be," he said, amazed. "You four are from that Vault, aren't you? I haven't seen one of those jumpsuits in a long time!"

"I'm Ryan," I said, extending a hand. "I'm Vault 101's Overseer."

"Lucas Simms," the man replied, shaking my hand. "Town sheriff, and mayor too when the need arises. What brings you folks to Megaton?"

"Just taking a look around," I told him. "We need to know what the world's like out here."

"Well, as long as you stay out of trouble, I won't complain," said Simms. "Be careful around the bomb, and don't start trouble. If you can do those things, then you're alright with me."

I thanked the sheriff, then a thought occurred to me.

"About the bomb," I said.

"What about it?"

"Shouldn't someone disarm that thing?" I asked.

"I don't trust any of the locals to tinker with it," Simms replied. "Why? You think you got the know-how to disarm that thing?"

"Possibly," I told him, "I can have one of the Vault technicians to take a look at it."

"Well alright," said Simms reluctantly. "Just don't go blowing everyone up. There'll be 100 caps in it if you disarm that thing."

I had no idea what he meant by 'caps', but I declined anyway. "I don't need a reward. I couldn't sleep at night knowing I left you all to die."

Simms looked at me, astonished.

"Well that's mighty decent of you," he said. "Just be careful."

He left us alone, and Kendall cleared his throat.

"You sure that's a good idea?" he asked me. "Not asking for a reward?"

"I want us to be on good terms with them," I explained. "People will have to get used to us, and I want them to be relaxed when we're around."

Kendall nodded in understanding.

"Alright," I said to the officers. "Feel free to wander around and mingle. Don't get into trouble, and don't touch the bomb. If you see or hear anything noteworthy, let me know."

"Yes, sir," they replied in unison before splitting up. I decided to walk down the 'main' street, the busiest part of the town. The locals gave me a few distrusting glances, and I kept to myself. There was a preacher of some kind, his clothes ragged. He stood barefoot in the irradiated water, rambling something I didn't bother listening to. I looked around. Above one of the shacks was a massive sign reading 'Moriarty's Saloon'. I remembered what dad had told me, but decided to check it out anyway.

The saloon was furnished with a mismatch of different furniture. Around the metal bar were stools, while the chairs were a mix of shapes. A radio on top of the bar emitted static, while the bartender hit it in frustration.

"Stupid radio," he said in a raspy voice.

"I told you, Gob," replied a red-haired woman. "It's not the radio, it's Galaxy News. Their signal's been shit lately."

It took all my strength not to start at the bartender. Was he even human? Most of his skin seemed to have fallen off, and what little was left was pale and covered in sores and boils. Was it radiation, or something else that had done this to him?

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed something. In the small sitting room away from the bar, a man gestured to me. He wore a dirty pre-war hat and suit, and glasses.

"Yes?" I said hesitantly, taking an empty seat across from him.

"My, my," he said coolly. "Just when I had all but given up hope. My dear boy, I am very happy to make your acquaintance. I am Mister Burke. And you, well, you are not a resident of this putrescent cesspool. That makes you a rather valuable individual."

"It does?" I asked, wondering what the hell I was getting myself into.

"Don't you see?" said Burke. "You're a free agent! You have no ties here, no interest in this settlement's affairs! Megaton means nothing to you!"

"I'm afraid that's where you're wrong, Mister Burke," I replied, turning up my jumpsuit collar to show the yellow 101. "In case you haven't guess, I'm from a Vault."

"Ah," said Burke, nodding. "Vault 101. I had suspected it, given the jumpsuit. Well, what I have to say might be beneficial to your Vault. I represent certain... interests, who view this town as a blight on a burgeoning urban landscape.

"If this settlement were to.. go away. Why, who would really care? Certainly not you, or I..."

At this point, I was gaping.

"Wait," I finally said. "You're going to destroy the town?"

Burke smiled, and continued. "No, no. I'm merely a recruiter. YOU get to have the real fun. The undetonated atomic bomb for which this town is named is still very much alive. All it needs is a little motivation. I have in my possession a Fusion Pulse Charge. Once secured to the bomb, it will be detonated by you, from a secure location. Easy money, my friend."

I stood there, gaping. Surely this man wasn't serious! I backed away, and left in a hurry.

* * *

 

I told Gomez to keep an eye on Burke in case he tried to 'recruit' anyone else to rig the bomb before I could get it disarmed. I asked a local where I could trade, and he directed me to Craterside Supply, near the town gate. Craterside was run by Moira Brown, a red-haired women who seemed a little... odd. By odd, I mean extremely friendly for a Wastelander. Nonetheless, I was polite when talking to her.

"Oh, you're from that local Vault!" she said in excitement. "I haven't talked to one of you folks for such a long time! Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question about life in the Vault?"

"Uh, sure," I replied, noticing something hanging in the corner of the room. A blue jumpsuit, a little worn from a combination of age and use, modified with leather straps and a metal shoulder guard that only partially hid the number 101 from view.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked, pointing to the jumpsuit. Moira turned around.

"Oh, I had a girl come in about ten years ago, asking me to strengthen it, but I never saw her again. If you can answer my question, it's yours for free. So, what's it actually like living in a vault?"

"Well," I began, racking my brains for something noteworthy. "We've got a lot of pre-war technology, which gives us access to pure food and water free of radiation. The dispensers give us an almost limitless supply of useful things, such as water and medicine. The only real downside is that, since it's underground, you can't see any of the outside world."

"Fascinating!" said Moira, her eyes lighting up. "Thank you so much! Here, I want you to have this."

She brought over the modified jumpsuit, and I thanked her. After leaving Craterside Supply, I decided to meet up with the officers by the gate.

"So," I said to them. "How'd it go?"

"People here are friendly enough," reported Kendall. "But there's not a whole lot here worth trading for other than spare parts."

"They use bottlecaps as currency," replied Gomez. "We can get those easy enough as long as the dispensers keep working."

It was silly, but I didn't want to go with that option. Sure, we could have easily generated an unlimited amount of bottlecaps and become rich easily, but the idea seemed like cheating, and the last thing I wanted was for everyone in the wasteland to be jealous of Vault 101.

"We probably won't even have to do that," I finally told Gomez. "Purified water seems to be a luxury most people don't have access to out here, and we've got a limitless source of it. Anyway, we can discuss our next move when we return to the Vault."

"Did anyone else notice that man in the saloon?" asked Officer Taylor. "I don't like the look of him."

"Burke? Yeah," I replied. "He's trying to get someone to rig that bomb to blow."

"What?" came the voice of Sheriff Lucas Simms. "Who is?"

"Burke," I replied, turning to meet him. "He tried to recruit me to help him detonate the bomb."

The sheriff swore. "I never did like the look of him. Alright, follow me if you want an education on Wasteland justice."

Simms had his rifle loaded and ready long before we made it to Moriarty's saloon.

"Gomez, Kendall," I ordered. "You two block off the sitting room in case he tries anything. Taylor, you guard that door and don't hesitate to shoot Burke if he tries anything. Ready?"

"Got it, boss," said Gomez. We all walked inside, Taylor taking his place at the door, while Gomez and Kendall took their places, closing Burke in with me and Simms.

"Burke!" he barked. "Explain yourself!"

"Why, sheriff," said Burke calmly. "To what do I owe the displeasure?"

"The bomb! You want to blow it up! Have you lost your goddamned mind?"

Burke laughed. "Sheriff, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding. Someone has clearly been spreading rumors. I'll be sure to address the situation personally."

Simms, having none of it, narrowed his eyes. "You're coming with me, Burke. At least until I know what the hell's going on around here."

Behind his glasses, Burke scowled and said. "And I'm afraid I won't be able to oblige your request, sheriff. Now, tell these Vault idiots to step aside."

"It's not open for discussion Burke," said Simms, shaking his head. "Get up, now!"

"Why do you knuckledraggers always insist on doing things the hard way?" Burke sighed. "Fine, lead the way."

Burke stood up, and Simms turned his back, giving Burke enough time to draw a modified N99 10mm and aim it at the back of the sheriff's head.

"GET DOWN!" I yelled, forcing Simms to the ground as a bullet whizzed overhead. Gomez and Kendall opened fire, and I saw Burke fall backwards into the wall, his suit stained with red where the bullets had punctured him.

"Good riddance!" a bar patron yelled.

Simms stood up and looked over at Burke's body.

"Must be getting slow in my old age," he murmured before turning to me. "We'll take it from here. Thank you for the help."

I nodded. "C'mon guys, lets head back."

* * *

 

Everyone was silent as we walked back to the Vault, the sun casting the wasteland in an orange glow. Despite that nasty business with Burke, it had been a fairly good day. The settlers, while wary, weren't hostile, and we knew how people traded. And there was that modifid jumpsuit as well. I'd have to ask Alphonse who it had belonged to.

When we reached the Vault door, I knew something wasn't right. The door was open, and unguarded.

"Officers," I commanded. "Be on your guard."

We stepped into the Vault, only to be met with silence. Then, from the atrium, voices drifted up.

_"Hannon! Drop your weapon!"_

_"Put the gun down!"_

BANG. BANG. BANG. The gunshots rang out from the atrium. I barely had time to process anything before the four of us were running down the steps and into the atrium.

When we reached the atrium, I almost slipped on something. Looking down, I saw blood, dark red, spreading across the floor, the source of which was Vault resident Tom Holden, who lay face-down in a pool of his own bloody, his arm outstretched. Next to him were the remains of Mary Holden, whose brains had been blown all over the atrium walls.

I tore my eyes away from the sickening sight, to that of Paul Hannon, who looked at me with his stolen gun raised and rage in his eyes.

"Paul!" I shouted in vain. "Stop!"

Gomez tackled me from behind as a bullet impacted where I'd been standing a moment before. Kendall and Taylor opened fire on Hannon, who collapsed with several bullet wounds in his torso, a look of rage and agony etched on his face.

"Thank you," I managed to say to Gomez. I stood up and collected the discarded pistol.

"R-Ryan?" said a tearful voice.

I whirled around. Standing at the foot of the staircase that led to the Admin section, was Amata. She was leaning against the wall, a look of absolute terror in her eyes, shaking uncontrollably.

I hadn't even realized that I'd been holding my breath, worrying if my worst fear was a reality. Thankfully, it wasn't.

"Oh thank God," I exclaimed, running to her and catching her before she fell. I lowered her gently to the floor, and asked if she was okay.

"I'm fine," she said. "J-Just a bit skaken, that's all. Hannon...he was being given his food when he just lashed out. He killed Officer Wolfe and just started shooting!

"No one knew what was happening, and your father tried to calm him down, but Hannon shot him."

My stomach churned, and it must have shown, because Amata said quickly, "Oh no, he's fine, but he'll be recovering for a few days."

"Okay," I said slowly, almost collapsing myself due to the situation. "Okay, where's your father?"

"Upstairs," said Amata, pulling herself onto her feet. "In your office."

I led her, carefully, up the stairs and to the Overseer's office. Alphonse was putting the lock back on one of the lockers when we walked in.

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, seeing Amata barely walking. "Amata, sweetie, are you alright?"

"J-Just fine," Amata manged to say before I helped her onto the couch.

"Amata said Hannon went on a rampage," I said. "What happened?"

"I checked the security footage. Hannon jumped Wolfe when he was giving Hannon his dinner. When Hannon went on his rampage, your dad tried to reason with him. We've got ten people wounded, your father included, and two with serious injuries. Officer Wolfe, Hannon, and Tom and Mary Holden make up the death count, sir."

I sighed.  _I leave the vault for one goddamned day and everyone goes to shit,_ I thought.

"Okay. If you two wanna get cleaned up, then that'll be all."

"As you wish."

Alphonse went to help Amata, but she insisted that she was fine before hurrying out. Alphonse gave an almost inaudible sigh.

"She just needs some space," I told him. "Today's been... traumatic."

"I suppose you're right," Alphonse replied, practically falling down in the chair opposite my desk in exhaustion. "I will admit though, things have been... better between us since I resigned."

"I'm glad to hear it," I said, sitting down at the desk. "It's nice to have some good news."

"So, how did the scouting trip go?"

"All in all, very well," I replied. "The locals in Megaton were wary, but that's to be expected I suppose. There's even a radio station set up in the D.C ruins. Bottlecaps are currency now, other than bartering. There's not a whole lot out there that we need, other than spare parts, but I think we can trade in other ways."

"Well, at least a few things went right today," muttered Alphonse, "What should we do about the bodies?"

I hadn't thought about that, and I paused for a moment.

"We should hold a service of some kind for Tom and Mary and Wolfe. As for Hannon, toss his corpse out, far away from here. I won't have murderers taking up space here."

"As you wish."

Alone in my office, I finally decided to go down and replace my equipment. In storage, I put away my gun, baton and vest while watching workers carry away Tom and Mary to the morgue, while two other carried Hannon up to the Vault door. I couldn't help but think,  _Good riddance._

The thought scared me. I'm not the hateful type.


	3. Chapter 3

Three weeks later, after a funeral had been held for Tom, Mary and Wolfe, Vault 101 went back to business as usual. I spent most nights in my office, planning for the next trip out. We'd spent three trips in Megaton and the ruins of Springvale, but I wanted to push deeper into the 'Capital Wasteland' and learn what was truly out there.

It was lucky that I'd decided to take N99's with us, because our second trip to Springvale saw us taking on a disused school full of 'Raiders'. The interior of that place was the most sickening place I'd ever seen. Mutilated corpses hanging from the ceiling, decaying skeletons of children, bloody mattresses. And the Raiders themselves seemed to represent evil itself. Their armor was made from what seemed to be scraps of metal and leather, their eyes were wild with rage, and I caught two of them getting high off of something called 'Jet'.

They put up a hell of a fight, but all of them fell at some point or another. We looted everything they had, and I almost vomited as I lifted a 32. revolver up, it's handle gripped by the severed hand of it's owner.

Nonetheless, we stripped the place clean of anything valuable, and made it back to the Vault within a day.

I sighed, remembering how long it had taken us to get back to the Vault. The scouting runs had gotten longer and longer. I'd have to work on getting camping gear; if we went out any farther, we'd be gone for a day or two.

The scouting plan was getting nowhere, so I decided to call it quits for the night. I'd been working almost nonstop for the past month, and I hadn't been able to even talk to anyone outside of Vault business. Maybe Amata would be in the diner at this hour. It would be good to just sit down and have a conversation outside of work.

We'd picked up old music holotapes on our last trip, so the Vault PA system was playing 'the Wanderer' as I made my way down to the diner. Thankfully, it wasn't too crowded, and I saw Amata and my father sitting at a booth near the back. They beckoned me over, and I practically fell into the seat.

"Good God," I said to Amata. "How your dad did this job for nine years, I will never know."

"My dad never had to plan a trip out of the Vault," Amata pointed out. "Hey Andy, can you get Ryan a Nuka Cola?"

"Here you are, sir!" said Andy cheerfully before setting a cold Nuka Cola bottle on the table and drifting away. The sweet liquid was refreshing, and I had to restrain myself to a few sips at a time.

"How have you been son?" my father asked. The attack from Hannon had left his right arm in a cast, so Jonas had taken over most of his duties.

"Exhausted," I replied, rubbing my eyes for the millionth time today. "At least we're getting somewhere with it."

"It's hard to get used to," Amata said, "You being away for so long. I keep getting worried that something's happened out there."

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was for my father to hear. Thankfully, I didn't have to decide. My dad excused himself, leaving us alone.

"I know, it's not easy," I told her, putting an arm around her shoulder. "But it's something that probably won't change anytime soon. We need to know what's out there, and we can't know unless we go out there."

"I know," said Amata, shifting in her seat to face me properly. "But every time you guys go out there, you're gone for longer. You've been here every day of my life, and I don't think I could go a day without you there. If you have to spend days at a time out there then fine, but I want to be by your side when you do."

I was taken completely aback, and didn't bother hiding it. In the three weeks since the Vault opened, Amata had never once expressed any desire to leave the Vault. Where had the sudden change of heart come from?

"Y-You want to go out there?" I asked her, astonished. "Into the wastes? Amata, it's dangerous out there."

"I don't care," she replied. "I want to at least know what's going on out there. It's driving me crazy, being cooped up in here. It's a big world out there, and I don't want to live and die in the same corner I was born in. I want to see the world."

"You're sure about this?" I asked, frowning. "You won't a lot of what you see. Is this really what you want?"

It is."

"Alright," I finally said reluctantly. "But I want you to be prepared. We start firearm training tomorrow."

* * *

For some reason, the Vault felt suffocating, so I went topside for some air. I sat down on the scenic overlook outside the Vault, my eyes passing over the illuminated Megaton walls and the darkened ruins of Springvale, the night air cooling me down. On our last trip into Megaton, Simms had filled me in on some of the nearby settlements. Near the D.C ruins was Rivet City, an old disused aircraft carrier and the largest city in the Capital Wasteland.

"Don't get your hopes up," Simms had said. "D.C's a complete warzone. Between the Brotherhood of Steel and the super mutants, you'll be lucky to get out alive."

We'd have to look for more firepower if we ever wanted to venture into the city. Some of the Raiders we'd killed had been armed with submachine guns and assault rifles, but ammo was in short supply.

I heard a low whining noise to my right, and looked around, then nearly jumped in alarm. At the top of the slope leading away from the Vault, staring at me, were two small eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. I tensed up, wondering if the creature would attack, then relaxed. It wouldn't attack; it was just curious.

"C'mon," I said to it. "Don't be afraid."

The creature walked over, and I saw a furry body walking on two legs. I felt my jaw drop. Was it a dog? I'd never seen one before, aside from pictures in the Vault library books. But I didn't even recognize this one's breed.

"It's okay boy," I said, reaching out. "You got an owner?"

The dog gave another whine, and moved closer. His fur was brown and gray.

"You seem like an okay boy," I told the dog, who rested his head on my leg, "I guess you can stay with us."

The dog gave a happy bark. I looked at the name tag hanging from his collar. It had one word; Dogmeat.

* * *

For somebody who had never fired a gun before, Amata wasn't actually a bad shot. I'd brought her down to the room by the reactor where'd I'd trained with a BB gun for nine years. I didn't want to use valuable ammunition on training, so I let her use my BB gun for practice. Her first few shots bounced harmlessly off the wall, but they gradually worked their way closer and closer to the center of the target. After three days of practice, I decided she'd do fine outside.

We stocked several extra bottles of purified water for trading in Megaton, and a thought occured to me. I'd made an offer to Sheriff Simms to disarm that bomb, but I didn't trust myself to do the job alone. This called for a trip to the maintenance department.

"Hey Stanley, you interested in a trip topside?"

Stanley looked up from replacing a vent cover and looked up, wiping his sweaty brow.

"What do you want me for?" he asked, standing up.

"The town we've been visiting, Megaton, it's got a live atomic bomb, and I don't trust myself to disarm it alone. Think you could help out?"

Stanley paused for a second, then said, "Well, it should only take one man, but I can lend a hand if you need."

"Alright. We leave in two days."

"Gotcha, boss."

* * *

I was on my way down to the cafeteria at lunch to ask Kendall if he was interested in a few days outside, when I heard shouting coming from the room. I recognized the voices of Officer Kendall, his daughter Christine, and his wife Mary.

"-leaving all the time!" Mary was saying. "I don't care what the Overseer says, John! You can't just neglect your family like this!"

"I've got a duty to the Vault!" John Kendall replied. "I can't ask the Overseer to give me a free pass because I'm married. Besides, I'm rarely even gone for long."

"No, dad!" Christine piped up. "You're away with Ryan and the officers longer and longer. You've got mom and Monica and me here!"

"John, listen to them!" said the voice of Allen Mack. "Why are you letting that little punk Ryan force you to risk your life?"

"He's not forcing me!" John replied. "He's never ordered me to go out there."

I heard Allen scoff. "John, you should know better. That brat of an Overseer is going to realize sooner or later that he can do whatever he wants with us. We have to stop him before he goes mad with power."

A few voices murmured in agreement, but they were drowned out by the shouts of "You're embarrassing yourself!" and "Shut up already!". John Kendall actually burst out laughing.

"You think Alphonse was any different? He ran this Vault with an iron fist for years, and only because there was no one else. Ryan's capable, and he's reasonable. He's one of the best Overseers we've had in a long time!"

"That won't last!" Allen Mack insisted. "He's always been selfish and insubordinate, just like his father. And probably his mother too. Thank God she didn't live to bother us."

"Mack!" I shouted, unable to contain myself. "That's the fucking limit!"

He'd gone too far now. It was time to put an end to his bullshit. Without a second thought, I stormed into the cafeteria, walked straight up to Allen Mack, and threw a punch him in the face.

"You can talk shit about me all you want," I fumed as he staggered back in shock. "I'll even tolerate you spewing bullshit about my dad. But you do not ever talk about my mother like that, or I'll make your life a living hell. If you ever mention my mother again, getting smacked will be the least of your worries."

Mack was either too frightened or too stunned to retort. I stood there, heaving for a moment, then stormed out of the room.

* * *

I somehow wound up in the library, alone. I sat down at a terminal and tried to control my breathing. How fucking dare he! Sure, this was Allen Mack we're talking about, but how spiteful can one get to go that far? My thoughts were interrupted by Christine Kendall, Allen's niece-in-law.

"Sorry about that," I said to her, still shaking, "I've always been sensitive about my mother."

"I understand," said Christine. "I know how Allen can get. I don't even bother calling him uncle; he's not really family."

She sat down at the terminal next to me.

"Being Overseer- it's getting to you, isn't it?" she said, more as a statement than a question. I sighed and nodded.

"I'm just terrified," I said, my head in my hands. "that I'll end up like Amata's father. Is this just part of being Overseer?"

"No, I don't think so," Christine replied. "Amata's mother died very early on, and Alphonse had the responsibility of raising a child and running the Vault on his own. You've got people to look to for help, at least. You'll be fine."

* * *

The shouting match with Allen Mack had reminded me of the Vault's biggest problem; population. We'd gotten to the point where almost everyone was under one family tree, which meant that the Vault would descend into inbreeding within a generation or so. Without outside imput, this place would collapse after a decade or so. I'd had an idea, ever since we first ventured outside the Vault, to let people come and go freely. Not with regulation, but perhaps allowing people to come and go would lead to a solution.

Kendall had to bail out on the next scouting run, so the final team was me, Amata, Gomez, Taylor, and Stanley and Officer Richards. Stanley and Richards would return to the Vault after the bomb was disarmed, while the four of us would continue. I'd asked around Megaton on our last trip, and learnt of a few settlements in the Capital Wasteland. Rivet City was off the agenda, due to it's proximity to war-ravaged D.C ruins. Greyditch was on the city outskirts, and supposedly spared the horrors of the super mutants. Big Town a short walk north of Megaton, and Arefu was a little further north-west.

My father and Alphonse came to see us off, Alphonse walking with the aid of a cane we'd found for him. He'd been... less than joyful when he'd learned that Amata would be going out with us, but had grudgingly accepted it. When he arrived at the Vault door, he whispered to me, "If my daughter gets hurt out there, I'll kick your ass."

The sirens blared as the door slid open, and we stepped out into the tunnel leading outside. Amata cringed at the decayed skeletons by the door, but said nothing.

I allowed her to take it all in when we stepped outside the cave. It was a big experience for her, to see sunlight for the first time in her life. I didn't know what she expected of the outside. She'd been fed those lies about an uninhabitable irradiated wasteland all her life, so maybe a part of her expected hell itself.

"It's incredible," was all she could say, standing on the cliff overlooking the Wasteland. Her eyes settled on Megaton.

"That's out first stop," I told her. "Stanley will disarm the bomb in town, and we'll trade a few bottles of water for some caps. After that... we'll look at our options."

Stanley, Amata and Richards finally tore their eyes away from the view, and we made our way over to Megaton. As we approached the bomb in the center of town, I had to restrain myself from cursing. The crazy preacher was standing in the irradiated water, worshiping that damn bomb again. I deliberately avoided him on every trip into town, but he'd most likely confront us if we started tampering with the bomb. Sure enough, I was right.

"Pardon me," he said. "But what business do you have with Atom?"

Stanley looked up from removing a panel on the bomb, and gave me an uncertain look.

"We're just... making sure the bomb is safe," I said carefully. Stanley gave a quick nod. The answer did not satisfy the preacher.

"It's regrettable that you cannot speak to me truthfully, so I must ask you to step back," he told us, narrowing his eyes. Out of the corner of my eyes, two more cult members appeared outside of their church, eyeing us. Gomez, Taylor and Richards eyed them back.

"It's regrettable that I can't oblige the request," I finally told the preacher. "We're here at the Sheriff's request."

"Then perhaps you should go back to the Sheriff and inform him that the Church of the Children of Atom will not allow people to desecrate our place of worship," the preacher shot back, looking more than a little cross now.

"This bomb is not your place of worship," said a familiar voice that couldn't come at a better time. "This bomb is in a public space, and these people are indeed here with my knowledge and permission. And I can't allow you to obstruct them."

For a moment, the preacher looked like he'd been slapped. Then, he hid it with a small smile and said, "Sheriff, these people have lived their lives underground, and are somewhat ignorant of our ways. If you were to allow me to conscript these poor souls-"

"Not a chance!" I said. "Put your hands on any of us, and we'll have a problem."

"That's not happening, Cromwell," Simms warned. "If you continue to harrass people, then I'll have to detain you."

A scowl appeared on Cromwell's face, and before stepping aside, he hissed at me, "You have made a massive error in judgement, _Overseer,_ and you and everyone in you Vault will feel Atom's wrath because of your actions!"

I only glared in response. This man was clearly a fanatic, and pouring fuel on the fire would be a bad idea.

"Alright Stanley," I said, turning around. "What have we got?"

Stanley looked up and wiped his brow on his dirty jumpsuit. "It's C-23 Megaton bomb. Won't detonate without a fusion pulse charge, but the core is still alive and leaking radiation. When the inner plates deteriorate with age, probably in a year or so, it's gonna irradiate this whole town."

"Can we disable it?" I asked.

"Easily," Stanley nodded. "If we deactivate the core, it'll stop releasing radiation, and the bomb will be dead for good. Could I get a pair of hands down here?"

I knelt down, thankfully that my boots were radiation-resistant, and did as Stanley instructed. Most of the bomb's interior was taken up by a massive round shape, which must have held the core.

"Ah, I see," said Stanley. "The core's in the physics package, so getting it out will be hard, but we can remove the X-unit and the plate, so that it can't detonate. Here, you hold the unit while I unscrew it."

I did as he requested, putting my hands under the metal square while Stanley unscrewed the unit. When he was done, he placed the unit in the leather pouch I'd given him.

"We'll have to dismantle this thing fully sometime," he said. "These parts could be useful."

"Haven't we pissed off the church enough?" I replied sarcastically.

Stanley and I both took some Rad-X before working on the core. As he opened the aged physics package, the gieger counter on my Pip-Boy began to tick, but only for a second.

"Alright, the core's disabled," Stanley announced, wiping his hands on his jumpsuit. "The bomb is officially dead."

"Well I'll be damned."

I turned around. Lucas Simms had returned, a look of disbelief on his face.

"You did it, didn't you? You disarmed that thing!" he said, looking astonished. "And all without asking for a reward too. Here, this is the least I could do."

He drew a piece of paper from his pocket, and handed it to me.

"See that empty house, up there on the hill?" said Simms, pointing. "It's yours now. Do whatever you like with it."

Inside the folded paper, was a single key. I stored it in my pouch with a smile. I looked up at Amata, who gave me an approving smile.

I didn't plan on settling down in Megaton, but it would be handy to have a place on hand to stay at if need be. Maybe we could even turn it into a store of some kind, provided we could find someone to run it.

That thought left my mind immediately. Greeting us as we stepped inside the shack was, hovering off the ground, a round ball with three arms and three eyes, was a Mr Handy robot.

"Allow me to introduce myself, Sirs and Madam. I am Wadsworth, this dwelling's personal robotic butler. May I ask who holds the deed to his house?"

I held up the deed, but said, "We haven't decided on an owner yet, and we're considering turning this place into a store of some kind. How would you feel about it?"

"A store, sir?" said Wadsworth. "I think that would be quite an interesting idea sir! Moira from Craterside Supply might not be so welcoming to competition, but perhaps you can find some other valuables to trade with!"

"We're from a nearby Vault," I explained. "Vault 101. We're hoping to set up trade on the surface."

"Ah, I heard that a Vault had opened recently. Well, I wish you luck sir. Will any of you be requiring anything?"

I looked at my companions who, looked at each other and shook their heads.

"No, we're fine thank you," I said politely. After a moment of thought, I added, "If anyone from Vault 101 comes over, tell them that they're welcome to stay here and that the Overseer owns this place. Other than that, I'd prefer if nobody else comes over unless they have a good reason. Can you do that for me?"

"Absolutely sir!" said Wadsworth cheerfully. "Proud to serve!"

* * *

We traded two bottles of water for 80 caps before leaving town at noon, while Stanley and Richards went back to the Vault. We stopped in Springvale for a quick lunch, watching an eyebot drift by, playing Enclave Radio out of it's speaker. I'd tuned into Enclave Radio a few times, but all it seemed to play were old patriotic songs and the occasional monologue by someone who called himself 'John Henry Eden'. From the speeches, we determined that this 'Enclave' was some kind of pre-war government remnant, and Eden was it's president. Over the radio, he vowed that the Enclave would restore America to it's former glory. Sounded like rubbish.

We camped out at an old Red Rocket gas stop, since all of the houses were reduced to unrecognizable frames. In the afternoon, I tuned in to Galaxy News Radio, right as Three Dog began a report.

_Got some great news out of the town of Megaton. Turns out the live atomic bomb in the town's center has finally been deep-sixed for good. The town's sheriff, one Lucas Simms, commissioned a few guys from Vault 101 to disarm the nasty nuke. Nice going 101. Glad to see you folks finally fighting the Good Fight. Next time you're in the neighborhood, pop into the studio."_

"News travels fast, huh?" said Gomez.

I frowned. How had word gotten to the D.C ruins already?

I went over to join Amata, who was exploring an old house nearby.

"Find anything?" I asked.

"No, not really," she said, half distracted, while pulling a blue pre-war dress out of a suitcase. "Pretty good condition, for 200 years old."

The house had collapsed into ruin, leaving only a few walls. But the mailbox, knocked over, was still outside. I saw a yellowing piece of folded paper inside it. Pulling it out and unfolding it, I read it.

_Dear Mr and Mrs Almodovar, congratulations on your recent inclusion in the Vault 101 community. In your application materials you will find a full review of rules and procedures related to preparing for shelter in a Vault-Tec facility, but we will outline a few key points here:_

_Vault-Tec provides all clothing, bedding and accommodations for residents. Personal belongings must be reviewed and approved of by an authorized Vault-Tec hermetics technician before such belongings can be delivered to your reserved quarters within the Vault. In the event of an emergency entrance to the Vault, no personal belonging will be permitted beyond the main door of the facility._

_All Vault residents must attend an orientation seminar. If you did not attend such a seminar as part of the application process, you must make an appointment with your Vault-Tec representative._

_In the event of a Vault activation, whether actual or drill, Vault-Tec will sound a siren audible in the immediate vicinity of the Vault facility entrance, and residents will be contacted via holotape message at the phone number provided in their resident profile records. Please report promptly to Vault 101 to await admittance and processing upon such a notification._

_Vault-Tec looks forward to having you and your family as valued residents! Be sure to present this letter to your Vault-Tec representative to receive your special; commemorative Vault Boy bobblehead toy! Sincerely;_

_Vault-Tec_

_Dept of Public Relations_

_Washington, D.C_

I stared at the letter, gaping. Surely this wasn't what I thought it was?

"Amata?" I said. "You should take a look at this."

Amata walked over, still carrying the blue dress, and read the letter over my shoulder. She let out a gasp, and her eyes went wide.

"How-" she began to say. She looked down at the dress, holding it close to herself, and said, "My mother died when I was little... I've never known any family members outside of my father. Ryan, do-do you mind if I keep this?"

"Not at all," I said, handing her the letter, which she carefully folded and placed in her pack along with the blue dress.

"You okay?" I asked her. She nodded, saying, "You mind if I look around a bit longer?"

 

We decided to settle down for the night at the gas stop. I took the first watch, with Gomez to take over in two hours. We all rolled out the sleeping bags that we'd brought with us, along with a portable heater. I sat by the road, away from the heater, letting the cool night air wash over me.

 _This isn't so bad,_ I thought, _Cool air, sleeping bags, no alarms bother me in the morning. Wasteland life ain't too bad._


End file.
